


Artist's Patron

by TheRedHarlequin



Category: One Piece
Genre: And kinda an artist too, Explicit Sexual Content, Kid is an artist, Language, Law is a doctor, M/M, Much twist, Psychological Themes, Romance, Sexual Content, Violence, Yaoi, very plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-03-25 06:29:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3800326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedHarlequin/pseuds/TheRedHarlequin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kid went out to get art supplies for his next piece, he had not expected something like this to happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to 'Artist's Patron'! I had this planned for a long time but decided to finally write it for 'Share The Love' month over on tumblr brought to you by Aerle and MyLadyDay some time ago; I posted it on fanfiction.net and now I'm putting it up on here. :)
> 
> Of course, the one beta'ing this and who helped with everything was Mai Kusakabe! Go read her stuff! :D
> 
> As per the guidelines for participation in 'Share-The-Love', I had to choose an element, either a primary one (Wind, Water, etc) or something from like the periodic table.
> 
> My choice for this story is: Metal.
> 
> Now metal can be a lot of things; it can be shaped, it can be heated and cooled. It can conduct electricity and it is even in our blood streams. Metal can be as fluid as mercury or as indestructible as titanium.
> 
> Metal is a changeable alloy, it can be a seemingly worthless pile of scrap, but can also be used for highly useful or destructive designs; such as the pipes in your plumbing or the bullets in a gun. Or it can be silver and used in pretty trinkets. The most worthless of metals can be dipped in paint and made pretty, or you can find pure gold in the deep recesses of the earth.
> 
> I won't explain about the storyline as of yet, I think you'll just have to read to find out. -mad cackling fades into the background-

Kid readjusted his new coat around himself, thankful he had decided to buy it as it was pretty cold out right now. Plus, he hadn't been able to resist trying the fur coat on when he'd seen it on his way home last week. When he had put it on, the young artist could have sworn he had died and went to heaven from the utter softness that encased him, loving the way the maroon fur contrasted with his skin and highlighted his hair.

It had been totally worth nearly not being able to make rent that month.

Speaking of rent, the redhead was making his way to his usual art supplier to begin working on his newest project, already having stopped at the junkyard earlier.

He felt something land on his nose and blinked before looking up from the empty street he was on, as it was currently working hours on a weekday and this being close to the business side of town.  _'Huh. Snow in October. Guess it's gonna be cold as fuck in the next few months as well.'_  The snow was only a light powder, so he doubted it would even stick to the ground long enough to cause build up, but it was a sign of a freezing winter ahead.

_'Should probably get a new heater...'_  The one he had was cheap and shitty so the odds were it would crap out on him soon, and the damn thing really wasn't worth buying the parts to fix it again.

Kid abruptly sucked in a deep gasping breath when his chest was suddenly painted in a wet hot warmth. He cursed and looked down to see the already chilling coffee quickly washing down the leather front of his coat and soaking into the hem of his shirt and dyed cotton pants further down. "What. The.  _Fuck_?!"

Red irises snapped up to glare at the one who had just nearly ruined his coat — thankfully it had missed the fur completely, otherwise he would have billed the fucker for the dry cleaning after taking it out of his ass.

The words he had just been about to yell at the other stopped dead before they even left his lips as he stared at the man.

The exotic, well dressed, and drop dead  _gorgeous_  looking man, who was already apologizing.

"I am so very sorry! Please, let me-" The tanned man had brought out an expensive looking handkerchief and was quickly mopping up the front of Kid's coat, squeezing the fabric of his shirt, dangerously close to brushing his lower half, to absorb as much of the beverage as possible before stopping. The redhead was quiet throughout the process.

"If it's damaged, I'll gladly pay for it," Was that a suggestive smirk the other aimed at him? "With money, of course." It had been and the artist felt his ears burn slightly. "Here, my card."

Kid took the card and only glanced at it, 'Trafalgar' something, before awkwardly replying. "Um, it's fine, it doesn't look like anything I can't take care of, but I'll, uh, let you know?" The redhead felt a little dizzy, probably because of how close the other man still was.

"I insist, and even if it's not damaged, perhaps I can take you to lunch sometime. As an apology, of course." The redhead felt a little unbalanced with how fast things had gone from wanting to punch someone to suddenly being asked by said someone to lunch.

"Um," Oh great, he sounded  _so_  intelligent. "I'll let you know." He repeated and awkwardly waved the card a little, before tucking it into his pocket.

"Good. Should we see each other again, I hope it to be under more  _desirable_  circumstances." The man, Trafalgar, almost purred. Wow, the guy was coming on strong.

Kid was also beginning to have the sneaking suspicion that the coffee hadn't been an 'accident', both due to the other man's outrageously forward behavior and the fact that the medium cup of coffee practically dumped on him hadn't even gotten a drop on the fur of his coat.

But the redhead found he couldn't really say he minded.

"Y-yeah. Well, I, uh, have to go, store's closing soon..."

Trafalgar nodded and moved around him to head in the other direction. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Eustass-ya."

"Yeah, same." The artist shook his head to try and remove the haze that had filled it, even taking a few unsteady steps, when something odd occurred to him.  _'How the hell does he know my name?_ ' The redhead didn't recall ever giving it to the man.

"Wai-" The world suddenly tilted and Kid was on his knees, questions forgotten as the light dizziness from moments ago crashed into him with the force of a ton of bricks. "Wha-"

His vision was swimming and he didn't even register the cold seeping into his pants from the ground.

A pair of hands appeared on him, carefully supporting him and gently lifting him into a standing position.

"Don't worry, I'm a doctor." The voice of the man from earlier echoed in his ear. "Can you tell me what you're experiencing? Any pain? Difficulty breathing? Any urge to vomit?" One arm was around his waist while the other hand was used to check the pulse at his throat.

"N-no pain, air's fi-nne." Kid's head felt thick and it was hard to form a sentence. "Jus- d-dizzy... Ti-tir-ed." He was leaning heavily on the shorter man, but surprisingly the other supported his weight easily.

"My car is right over here, you can sit down, all right? See if that helps, if not, I'll take you to-"

Kid blinked and he was sitting in the back of some car, he absently recognized it as an expensive model of some kind, though he wasn't able to focus enough to figure out which one exactly.

"Your eyes are dilated, you're disoriented, and will most likely have a slight headache when you wake up. I apologize for that as well." Apologize? Why? Kid couldn't speak anymore, his tongue felt heavy and he felt  _so tired_ , but something was screaming at him to stay awake, muffled warning bells were ringing in his head.

"I'd like to introduce myself properly, but there will be plenty of time for that later." The redhead's vision was blurry but he could make out the other pulling something out of his pocket, some small cylinder, a small part of himself recognized it as a syringe. "I only gave you half to make sure you wouldn't have any adverse reactions, but everything seems to be just fine. Small pinch." The man whispered softly, but Kid's attention had been caught by the shiny metal dangling from the stranger's ear and he fixated on it as his vision started rapidly dimming.

The artist felt a tightening in his chest at his own helplessness, he tried frantically to hold onto consciousness and must have made some kind of sound because the man immediately made to soothe him.

"Do not be afraid, Eustass-ya, everything is fine." His name again. "When you wake up, everything will be explained. So, just relax, you're safe. Go to sleep. It's going to be just fine." The gentle voice washed over him, distantly he felt fingers running through his hair.

The last thing he saw was the shine of the man's earrings and a glimpse of black letters that spelled a familiar word.

'D,' 'E', 'A', 'T', 'H'.

_'Death..._ ' Then everything went dark.

* * *

Law sighed as he laid the redhead down on his side across the comfortable backseat of his car, he watched contentedly as those beautiful carmine eyes slid shut and pale features softened with sleep.

He stood after making sure the redhead was securely fastened in and comfortably situated on his side in case of vomiting. He didn't believe there would be any ill effects from the injection, but wanted to be on the safe side rather than pulling over halfway because his guest was suffocating from his own vomit.

He closed the door of his Escalade before moving around and climbing into the driver's seat. Before starting the car, the man turned in his seat to gaze intensely at his captive.

Shaking his head to refocus, the dark haired man turned back around in the driver's seat, taking a deep breath and trying to calm himself. Idly, he adjusted the rear view mirror to keep an eye on his passenger only to suck in a breath as he took in a 'small' detail.

The fabric of the artist's pants that he had 'accidentally' soaked with his coffee was now plastered to the young man's groin, providing a stark outline of- while obviously soft- an impressively sized cock.

The surgeon closed his eyes, took a deep breath and studiously focused on starting the vehicle, stopping only to ensure the street he had parked at was still empty. He had parked a short distance away from where he had planned to intercept his artist, out of sight of the security camera set out front of the closed liquor store twelve yards from them. He knew there would be no one watching them, but he had gone the added mile to switch his license plates and brought the needed forged documents should he be pulled over, already having created multiple cover stories to explain the unconscious man in his backseat.

Satisfied but still cautious, he put the vehicle in drive and set out towards his home, ensuring to obey every traffic law and sign on the way.

To ignore the annoyance of a certain organ making itself known, he summoned to mind the contents of the periodic table and began reciting them in his head while listing their attributes and uses.

It was going to be a long drive.

* * *

The first thing Kid registered was the painful throbbing in his head. He almost let out a hiss when the slightest movement of his head caused a sharp ping.

He breathed deeply for a moment before slowly opening his eyes. His sight was a little blurry at first, but he was soon able to take in a white ceiling. The redhead tried to make sense of what he was seeing. The ceiling of his studio flat was all dark exposed wood, one of the reasons he had bought it in the first place.

White ceilings reminded him too much of hospitals.

For a second, he thought that maybe that's where he was for some reason. He moved his hand to touch his face but it felt heavier than normal, and there was a familiar metallic sound.

Chains.

That's when he remembered everything, or at least everything before he was too drugged to think.

He jolted upwards quickly, but his head felt like it was going to explode, and he was suddenly pushed back down.

"Now now, the effects have not completely worn off just yet, so take it slow."

The feeling of someone else's hands just made him struggle harder, choking down the nausea that resulted from it.

"Get the fuck off me!" He growled. He tried screaming it but his head felt like it would split in two.

"Eustass-ya, if you do not calm down I will be forced to use extreme measures to subdue you, please do not make me do so. I would much rather having you coherent for our introduction."

Someone's face was hovering above him, and judging by the outline it was a man. The young artist jerked away from the other's hands as they left him. When he was as far from him as the binds would allow, he stopped struggling and tried to focus on keeping his stomach's contents where they were, the thrashing having worsened his already bad headache.

The redhead tried shaking his head to fix his vision, but things were still a little blurry as he listened intensely while his eyesight adjusted. He stayed there until he could see, and though the details were a little fuzzy, he could tell they were alone.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"I'll answer your questions shortly. For now, would you like to sit up?" Kid glared at the man and weighed his options. Basically, either stay put in some futile attempt to keep distance or gain a better vantage point at least.

He gave a curt nod and stayed where he was as the bed moved. There was a sound and he felt his upper half rising up, much like a hospital bed, dizziness hit him again and he was forced to close his eyes or risk being sick, but as the bed rose there was also the rattling sound of heavy chains.

"There we are. Please, take your time to let yourself adjust."

Kid snarled and snapped his eyes back open. "Shut the fuck up and tell me who you are! What the hell am I doing here?!"

The tone of the other man's voice was almost  _happy_  when he spoke. "Feeling better already?"

The redhead, now seeing clearly, noted with added hostility that it was the 'doctor' from earlier. "What the fuck do you think, you son of a bitch?! What the fuck am I doing here?!"

The dark haired man hummed softly before walking away to drag a chair close to the bed Kid was laying on. The redhead made the mistake of trying to lash out with his fist when the man was close enough, but his hand stopped short just a few inches from the bastard's face.

'Trafalgar', or whatever his real name was, just tilted his head and sighed softly before pulling a remote from the pocket of his white lab coat and pushing a seemingly random button.

Kid snarled when his arms were pulled up and snapped his head up, ignoring the waning dizziness, to look at what the fuck was pulling the chains.

His scowl deepened as he noted the industrial built mechanism, knowing he wouldn't be able to yank it down or jam it with anything he could probably get his hands on. He then eyed the chains, welded steel with a red chrome finish. He tugged them lightly and noted the quality, also taking in the soft but inescapable cuffs with no keyhole but  _fingerprint recog-fucking-nition_. He wouldn't even be able to fucking pick the lock because there _wasn't one._

_'Who the fuck is this guy?! The amount of cash it would take to get a hold of this shit-'_

"Now that you have noticed your- accommodations, I would like to begin introductions." Kid's attention snapped back to the room's other occupant.

"Who the  _fuck_  are you?!"

The man looked fucking  _pleased_  at the redhead's attention. "I somewhat introduced myself during our 'bumping into' each other yesterday," Yesterday? How long had he been out?! "And while the nature of our meeting was not honest, I gave my name and occupation honestly. I am Trafalgar Law and a cardiac surgeon is my trade."

"Good for you, that just means you can afford to fix your face when I'm done crushing it in."

The creepy fuck was still smiling. "But, more importantly than my day job, I am your anonymous patron."

_'What?'_

"...What the fuck are you talking about?  _You?_  You're the guy who's been buying all my shit?"

The creepily serene man nodded. "Yes, but we will get to that later."

"That still doesn't fucking answer  _why I'm here!_  What the fuck do you want from me?!"

The man crossed his legs at the knee and folded his hands on them almost delicately. "Is there something I want from you? Admittedly, yes. But this is more about what I can do  _for_  you."

Kid eyed the nutjob warily. "What the fuck makes you think you have  _anything_  I want?"

"It is not so much what I  _have_ , as much as what I am." The obviously unstable doctor, if he really was one, smiled almost softly.

"And what the fuck are you?" Kid was actually getting the feeling he didn't want to know.

"I am a serial killer."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Things have been dragging in and out lately @n@ But I hope you enjoy this new chapter!

_Kid tried to lean in further to reach the spark plugs of the car he was helping with. However, his arms were too short and he started to slip, almost falling onto the hot engine when two large hands appeared on his waist, lifting him up and away from the carburetor._

_"Careful, Kid." Hands, much larger than his own, pulled out the old spark plugs and tossed them into a bucket to be replaced with new ones._

_"Sorry, Dad. I wanted to get some of it done before you got here." His red locks were ruffled by still clean hands, soon to be covered in motor oil and dirt._

_The red haired child looked up at the muscular man with a bright smile. "How was work? Did you catch any bad guys?"_

_The man, the boy's father, shrugged out of his suit jacket. "Mostly got stuck with paperwork today, took off early too." The dress shirt was replaced by a t-shirt that had been laying next to a work apron that he tied around his waist._

_"So let's get started. You got some dusting done, that's good. Now, what can you tell about the engine, what do you think needs done?"_

_The boy grinned, pushing his goggles up, and laid down his wrench, happy to be the center of attention and show off his knowledge. "The intake valve is clogged, but I didn't want to touch it without you cause you haven't shown me how to do it yet. I think the crankshaft might be cracked too and I was just trying to replace the spark plugs. We might have to order some new shocks."_

_The man nodded, having already checked these things but wanting the boy to learn on his own._

_"Good job. I'll also need to rebuild the transmission, don't worry about that." He said at the child's crumbling expression. "I haven't taught you enough about them for you to recognize any problems. You did good."_

_A while later had them both up to their elbows in grease and oil, the boy handing the man tools when he needed them. "Kid... I talked with your mother last night."_

_"Yeah?" Carmine colored eyes fixed on his father, a slight frown marring his features as he could tell from the man's tone something was off. "Is something wrong?"_

_"Mmm..." With a click, a part was pushed into place and the father leaned up, wiping his hands on a dirty rag as he walked over to a pair of chairs next to a mini fridge. The boy hurried after him, taking three steps for every one of the grown man's._

_"The other day, while you were at school, your mother was cleaning you room. Picked up your clothes, the usual. Some of it was flung under your bed so she decided to dust beneath it."_

_The small redhead stopped walking, feeling cold sweat begin to drip down his back. "I think you know what she found..."_

_"I-I-Dad, I-" The anxious boy was interrupted by a can of his favorite soda being held in front of him. Once he took it, the man patted the seat next to himself._

_"It's okay. It may seem strange, but I understand what you're going through. It's not your fault." The pale child sat down next to his father, sitting as close as he could, still feeling upset._

_"It's not... weird? I didn't mean to do anything bad. I just... And they were already dead... I didn't mean-" An arm was wrapped around him and held him tight._

_"It's okay, Kid. We're going to get through this. You're not alone, it's important you remember that. You are_ not _alone."_

* * *

A shocked silence fell over the room as Kid's mind tried to process what the obviously deranged man had just said.

All the while, said man merely sat there, pretty as a picture and just as calm, while he seemingly waited for the redhead to come out of his surprised silence.

"...What."

The clearly unhinged man just continued smiling. "I am a serial killer. Though I would prefer a more... 'elegant' term, I am aware of how my actions would be seen by the general masses."

"...Sure you would." Kid said cautiously, very much doubting the man's validity.

The self professed murderer tilted his head. "You do not believe me and most likely see me as a madman of sorts. I suppose I cannot blame you, it is a bit much to take in. I shall just have to provide proof then, though it may be a bit difficult as my... discrepancies against the law are not publicly known."

Kid just glared at the man, but the other didn't seem to register his displeasure with the situation at all.

"So, I suppose I'll just have to fetch some to show you." The obviously insane doctor stood, turned, and began to walk away without another word.

"Some of what?  _Hey!_  Where the hell do you think you're going?! Get back here you asshole and let me  _go_! I'll put my fucking foot in your ass if you leave me like this! You son of a  _bitch_!" Kid roared and yanked at the chains despite already knowing it was useless, feeling every bit like a caged animal.

Ignoring him, the creepy man had gone through a door the redhead hadn't noticed before and Kid watched as it closed behind the mad surgeon.

Eventually, Kid choked down his anger and tried to think clearly, to look around for something, anything, that could get him out of this. He inspected the chains again, not expecting to find anything different but there was nothing else close enough for him to grab. The cuffs were well padded, as despite all of his thrashing, his wrists felt not even slightly uncomfortable, and a little probing revealed the padding to be  _silk_  of all materials.

He critically eyed the chains, that  _had_  to be custom made and definitely worth a very pretty penny, that were attached to the automatic pulley system.

The red haired artist also took note of his bare feet, his boots and socks gone, as was his coat... And his shirt had been changed. For another of his own that he knew for a fact he had left at his apartment.

' _Fucking creep._ ' He huffed, trying to shake off the knowledge that he had been touched while unconscious, and turned his attention to what he was laying on. At first, Kid had thought it was a hospital bed or something, but it was far too comfortable.

The redhead pressed a hand against the bedding and watched it sink in. Apparently it was one of those beds they showed on TV all the time, the ones you could control and crap with a remote.

At least his ass was comfortable while he was forced to sit here and wait to see what this nutjob wanted to show him. He really didn't want to know, but didn't think he had much of a choice as the door opened again.

Kid glowered as the surgeon approached him, holding something that was very familiar to him.

"That's mine." He scowled at the art piece in the hands of the other man. The artist had made it a few months ago, warping black steel and silver twine into a lantern-like shape he had modeled after an old ship's lamp he'd seen at the docks. Kid had even made the glass container in it himself.

It had been a requested piece by his 'anonymous' patron.

' _Least now I know he's telling the truth about that much..._ ' He thought dryly.

"Yes, I have commissioned a number of similar functional pieces from you, all air tight and usable, but with your own flair." Trafalgar sat down in the chair again, balancing the lantern on one knee. "I have always wanted to show you how valued your hard work is, how useful it has been. Now, I admit, I am rather flustered. I do hope you can come to appreciate its purpose."

The artist was getting an odd feeling of foreboding while the man spoke, his stomach clenching with tension as he watched tattooed fingers slide a latch open and move a piece to reveal the handcrafted glass bowl inside. Another movement and the light beneath it was turned on to illuminate the contents.

When the redhead had first created this piece, he had imagined that the one paying him would use it as something to showcase some jewelry or some other expensive object.

Kid had never imagined that it would be used to preserve a human heart.

"I have... an affinity for hearts, you could say, for multiple reasons. But we'll go into that later, when we're closer and your mind is more... open." The restrained artist was still staring at the organ held inside his own creation and a thought, a sudden fleeting feeling in the farthest reaches of his mind, of almost... fascination... pressed at him, but was just as quickly extinguished.

And it started to really dawn on Kid just what kind of situation he was in.

"...So, are you going to kill me?" As he spoke, the red haired man faintly registered how he sounded; detached and decidedly uncaring, as if it really didn't matter if he lived or died.

And maybe it didn't.

Trafalgar, however, appeared shocked by the question. "Kill you? Of course not! Why would I do that? No, no, Eustass-ya, you're not here for me to  _kill_  you." A soft but chilling smile crossed the man's features. "I'm here to  _help_  you."

Kid growled. "So you've said. But you're a murderer and obviously fucking cracked, what the hell could you possibly 'help' me with? Why would you even  _want_  to?!"

The other man just smiled and sat aside the lantern delicately, resting it by his feet, before leaning forward. "Your art has been struggling lately. I could tell. Every new piece has less...  _you_  in it. They're just ideas, though well executed, that you put together. They lack  _feeling_. You have been frustrated and it shows in your work."

The redhead tensed, scowling. "What the fuck do you know? I'm just having a bad week... Sorry if my junk isn't  _good enough_  for you, Mr. Murderer!"

"Junk. An interesting word choice." Trafalgar said vaguely.

Kid kept frowning, but with an edge of confusion. "The hell are you on about? You were just sayin-"

"I never once said it was sub par." The artist's mouth clicked shut as the dark haired man spoke mildly. "I said it was not  _you_. The pieces themselves are very nice. It is not  _I_  that views it as... 'junk'."

The sinister doctor seemed much closer than before and his voice was soft. "It is you.  _You_  have been struggling, strained by something you refuse to acknowledge..."

Kid did not like how intimately the other was speaking to him, even less that the bastard was prodding at something he hated to think about. "Fuck off... Like you know anything..."

"But I do."

The chained redhead stiffened only slightly before relaxing with a snort. " _No_ , you don't." The only people who knew anything about his 'issues' had been dead for years and they wouldn't have told anyone.

There was a soft sigh of frustration and Kid tensed as fingers ever so lightly touched his face. He growled and bared his teeth threateningly until the digits were removed from him after only a moment.

"I understand you more than you think. You scream to the world every single day; trapped, wounded, and  _alone_ , and  _no one_  has heard you." The psychotic doctor was closer now, practically whispering, sending a distinctly unsettling feeling through Kid. "But me."

Trafalgar stood up suddenly and strolled over to a wardrobe a ways from them, opening both doors wide and gently removing something. "I usually keep this in my bedroom or my operating theater, but I knew I would need to show it to you, perhaps to remind you of something."

The bound man just watched as the mad medical practitioner approached him with an object covered in a white cloth; it was large and was carried carefully, until finally it was placed delicately on a wheeled nightstand that was then pushed into place alongside Kid for him to view it more closely.

When the cloth was almost reverently lifted from the object, the red haired man stared in shock at a work of his that he had not seen in a long time, and had thought to never see again.

"...It was you? You're the one who bought it?" There was a clink as Kid had made to touch his masterpiece, only to be rudely reminded of his current state, aching to run his hands over the gleaming metal of perhaps his finest art piece.

In front of the artist was a creation that he had thought lost to him forever.

While opening his first booth at a street art event meant for both amateur and professional artists to either make their debut or find new commissioners, he had placed it out as only something to draw attention, a sample of his abilities. He had  _never_  intended it to be sold.

The redhead had been away for less than an hour to look around the fair, only to return and it was  _gone_.

Kid had been enraged when he found that his  _former_  agent had sold it without asking him, the man having sputtered and, in an attempt to calm the upset artist, had given him the outrageous amount of money the buyer had paid for it. The amount had been enough to shock the redhead into silence for a moment, but it hadn't stopped him from punching the bastard and demanding all the details of who he had sold it to.

Unfortunately, there hadn't been enough details to track the person down, and Kid had mourned the loss of a creation that had meant more to him than he could ever admit to.

And here it was, in the hands of a demented admirer who had apparently been so engaged by his work that he had tracked down the then budding artist's new agent and set himself up as Kid's anonymous patron.

The metal sculpture being held so delicately by his captor in front of him, was maybe his 'grandest' piece, much more elaborate than most of his works. It was also one of the largest yet most intricate, the material itself was worth quite a bit on its own.

The base was solid brass and the top of it was covered in small handmade figures of the same metal, depicting many people as well as detailed structures of a city. The long hours of work on each small individual element that had gone into it were obvious. That in itself would have made it a valuable piece.

But the focal point was above it, hovering over the figures below like a malicious shadow. A bird made of high quality copper with a deep red sheen: the painstaking detail that went into the avian predator made it appear surprisingly alive, each individual feather detailed to great extreme. The wings were spread wide, body and lethal talons poised to swoop down upon the oblivious humans. The only thing seeming to hold it back was the bright silver wire that originated from two equally shining pillars behind it, the wire trapping and cutting into its wings, crippling the beast.

Though, oddly, if one looked more closely at the creature, they would see that its face was turned away. Its expression was one of torment, a single eye watching the figurines below with near desperation.

Kid had poured everything, every part of himself, into this piece. He had also nearly destroyed it upon completion for a few reasons, though mostly because it felt far too intimate to allow anyone else to see it.

He jerked his attention back to the surgeon when the other spoke, so absorbed in his own creation that the redhead had forgotten he was not alone.

"It seems like a beautiful interpretation of benevolence triumphing over wickedness... But we both know that it is something much deeper than that, isn't it?" The redhead remained silent. "You went to art school, so I assume you know what Art Psychology is, Eustass-ya: where one can deduce things about the artist simply by viewing and interpreting their work."

"...Yeah. So?" The words were spoken quietly, almost like he didn't really want to be heard, much less answered.

Trafalgar's expression was gentle, making Kid, if possible, even more uncomfortable. "A few interpretations that could be made by most would be that it is a representation of a source of good in your life that has 'saved' you from an inner torment. Another would be that you see yourself perhaps as a sort of protector. But the pillars and the people do not reflect you, do they?... You are not the savior, nor are you the saved."

The bound man was stubbornly refusing to look at the psychotic doctor, fists clenched as he tried and failed to ignore the other steadily growing closer to a taboo subject. "Shut up."

"... _You_  are the predator."

Knuckles bleached deathly white as fists clenched. "Stop.  _Now_."

But like the sound of a sympathetic snake, the words continued to hiss softly through his ears. " _You_  are the restrained force, desperate to be freed from the crippling moral chains placed there by the ones you hold above all else. Your parents, perhaps."

A chord was struck at the mention of his parents and Kid's head snapped to the side to glare at the madman. "You don't know a damn thing, so shut the  _fuck up!_ "

"You most likely started showing signs as a child: quickly resorting to violence to solve any disputes at school, other 'destructive' behaviors, easily agitated, drawn to the exceedingly morbid, an inability to connect easily with other children perhaps. Maybe you found yourself fascinated by death, dead animals for instance, you may have even killed some-"

"I didn't  _kill_  a damn thing! They were already-" The seething artist's mouth snapped shut with a click.

"It is alright to talk about these things, Eustass-ya. You are  _safe_  here. You asked before what I can possibly do for you." Trafalgar's tone was probably meant to be soothing, however, his riled captive was anything but calmed.

The redhead was back to his futile thrashing and pulling at the chain uselessly. "I don't want a  _damn thing_  from you!"

"I can help you create your  _truest_  art with the finest of mediums."

"...What the hell are you talking about?" Kid was breathing heavily.

The idea of someone calling the quality of his art sub par was enough to offend him to a point of once again realizing the ineffectiveness of struggling against his restraints, but he was still glaring at the other man, though there was now an edge of confusion to it. "What 'medium'? I already have one. If you've got a problem with the material of my work then that's your own damn issue and you can fuck off."

The sculptor had to hold back a flinch when the surgeon stood up abruptly, leaning over him. "Oh no, you misunderstand. I speak of the materials that call to the deepest, darkest, part of you."

"...And that would be?" Kid shivered and went deathly still as lips almost brushed the shell of his ear.

"Flesh, blood, and bone. Eustass-ya, I plan to give you everything that you have denied yourself for so long." The scarlet hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he could feel the man's slightly quickened breath wash over him. "You asked what I want from you. I want to see what you will become, the beauty that you will create; I want to protect that beauty from those who would seek to imprison or kill you for it. There are many, so very many things that I desire of you, but I will content myself with that for now."

The bound artist felt his heart stop for a moment. "...You mean you want me to-"

"I want you to kill for your medium; use their flesh as your canvas, their blood as paint, and their bones as you will. Eustass-ya," lips rested against his ear to gently whisper, " _Let me set you free_."

* * *

_**To Be Continued** _

**Author's Note:**

> To Be Continued


End file.
